


One Shots From English Lit Didn't Prepare Me For You

by Airplanesandcookies (Mosgirllee)



Series: English Lit Didn't Prepare Me For You -the Coursepack [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Character back stories, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 23:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16753900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mosgirllee/pseuds/Airplanesandcookies
Summary: There was a lot that I had to cut from my Big Bang 2018 Fic, English Lit Didn't Prepare Me For You.I will collect the one-shots and ficlets here.Enjoy.





	One Shots From English Lit Didn't Prepare Me For You

Jack Zimmermann knows who Eric Bittle is. He has for a while.

Ever since George tossed her phone at him as they re-filled their coffee cups in the cafeteria. 

“What do you think?” She had asked.

Jack took in the picture, clearly taken after a game, with tousled and slightly wet blond hair the guy in the photo is resting against his hockey stick, a slight smile and confidence radiating out of his large brown eyes. They must have won their game. And he can tell just from the posture, he had fun while playing. It was a great picture and he says so.

“Jack. Scroll down to the article.”

He does and reads, “Out and Proud, Samwell Captain Makes Run For Another NCAA Title.” 

On one hand, Jack is annoyed that the reporter is minimizing Bittle’s impressive leadership and absolute talent by highlighting the “and he’s gay!” but on the other hand, he’s absolutely delighted to have this tidbit of personal information. But Jack is used to feeling ambivalent about these things.

“You know, I plan on dropping by Samwell soon. If you are ever interested in joining me.” George offers with only a friendly smile.

And it’s only the motion of Jack almost dropping the phone while handing it back that helps him not answer, YES, too quickly. But given his butterfingers, he’s not sure if he actually saved face.

Maybe it’s a consolation prize, but George packs Jack, Marty, and Dex into her jeep one early afternoon a few months later and jumps on the road to Massachusetts. 

It was disappointing, having their run for the cup cut short by a laundry list of injuries. Jack flexes his hand - the sprain normally would have only kept him out a few games, but during the playoffs, there is no room for ‘a few days’. It still chafes, but management isn’t disappointed and with Dex rounding out the defensive line with Tater next year, everyone has moved onto planning for the next season. 

“Are any of the Samwell players hanging around for the summer?” Jack asks, mildly to disguise his hope of bumping into Bittle. 

“A few. I know Eric Bittle and Conner Whisk are around assisting with some youth camps. I plan on asking any Samwell players around to attend Hawker Training Camp.”

Jack fiddles with the wrist brace for a moment, before taking it off. It wasn’t really a functional brace - more of a reminder to be gentle with his arm. “Would it be weird to thank Bittle for being out during his captaincy?”

He answers himself, “Yeah, that would be weird.”

And Marty only pats him firmly on the shoulder from the back seat while Dex mumbles something under his breathe, again. 

“Relax. Just go and say hi to the man. Let the chips fall where they fall.”

Jack nods. Marty is fully aware of Jack’s minor crush. During a 3 game roady, he dutifully sat and watched Samwell’s final tournament game and listened as Jack commentated through the whole thing, unhelpfully pointing out, “see, hands!” and “watch this power play, he’s looking like he’s driving behind the net and bam, flawless pass.” But he was excited and therefore Marty was happy to share the moment.

The ride is quick, at least Jack thinks so. Dex looks moody and bored and Marty is thrilled to visit Faber and get a look around before training/development camp starts. 

Jack has half a mind to sit in the car now that the reality that he could meet Eric Bittle and it could be awful has planted itself firmly in his brain. Was he being creepy? He was being creepy. A news article and video of a game was not enough to to get a real impression of someone and Jack is immediately embarrassed with himself. 

But Marty is not having it. “Kiddo, if I have to watch you moon over this boy from afar another minute, I’m making you walk home. Now go and see. Maybe he’s not what you expected. Maybe he’s not even here. You won’t know until you go in.”

Jack marches in, scanning the room like a really cute, blond left winger is going to drop from the ceiling on him. 

He meets their tour guide and Samwell Manager, Denise Ford, who is quick, professional, and has absolutely no idea who any of the Falconer players are. But she covers it with a nod and a smile and he is sure that she is going to Google everyone the moment their back is turned. 

And then she leaves him standing at the edge of the ice, staring at Eric Bittle, and it’s just like his dad said when he saw his mother for the first time. 

_“It felt like a jolt down my spine, and the hair stood up on my arm because I just knew that this vision was going to be so important in my life. I was shaking, because this could be really great or horrible, but I wouldn’t know unless I said, ‘hello”._

Jack’s heart is in his throat, but years of playing a sport that uses adrenaline for fuel moves his feet forward before he himself has decided on a reasonable course of action. 

Bittle is waving off a few stragglers from a youth hockey league, but one stays behind and is talking quietly. Bittle has a nice encouraging smile and leans over his stick and lines up a puck, going over a simple drill, one on one with the kid. 

Jack is sorry to intrude, “It looks like you getting the hang of it. You have a good coach.”

The moment that Jack has been dreaming of and dreading happens. Eric Bittle finally looks up and they both are frozen in a moment. 

“Hi.” And there. He did it. He can go throw up now.

“Jack Zimmermann?” 

“You too? Common name I guess.” Jack somehow manages and wow, that’s corny. 

But suddenly Bittle laughs so loud and bright that Jack has to join in a little too. 

“Eric Bittle.” He says, holding out his hand. The kid he was helping earlier elbows Bittle in the ribs and bounces a little. “And this is Jamie.”

Jamie pumps Jack’s hand with enthusiasm and Jack’s wrist makes itself known but he doesn’t flinch. Instead, he steps back and let’s Eric finish talking to Jamie before sending him off to his bus with wide eyes and Jack’s baseball hat. 

“That was real nice of you.” Eric says, looking over at Jack.

Jack shrugs because he honestly hadn’t planned this far. 

“Just let me push these pucks and cones to the side, but I can show you around.”

“Let me help. Do you have a skate rental here?” 

A few minutes later, Jack finds himself easily skating after Bittle, picking up cones when he gets an idea. 

“Wanna race?” He asks, not really serious, but curious as to what Bittle would say. 

He doesn’t disappoint. “Oh my god, no, I can’t possible skate against a professional athlete.”

Jack smiles and waits because he can see that spark of competition in Eric’s eyes.

“Three times around the rink, just for fun though.” And as they line up, Jack takes a moment to wonder if he should hold back a bit, because technically this is flirting and he’s not sure what it would look like if he won.

That thought flies out of his head as soon as Bitty yells ‘GO’ and it still costs Jack the race because he suddenly has to push with much more force just to keep up. And it’s stunning. 

They finish, with Eric a foot ahead of him and he’s in love. With the way Eric is looking at him, maybe, just maybe, this is the very best thing that Jack has ever done.


End file.
